Something Hidden Beneath
by Aileen01
Summary: Summary Inside! I took this story off of dian's hands! Rating may change!
1. Chapter 1 Part 1: Isis Reed

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything except for the writing of chapter 3 and up. Anything you recognize, including the OC character, is not mine.**

**Summary:** Stiles meets Isis Reed, a spunky human that hangs out with supernatural beings. She's a 17 year old, emancipated minor that seems fine on the outside, but is she the same on the inside? Quiet about her past Stiles and the others have their curiosity peaked with Ms. Reed around, hacking into her files, they find some odd information. Isis Reed has some sketchy and just downright violent offenses on her record. Including an accusation on manslaughter for not one, but six beings. Is this young teen all she seems or is their something darker hidden beneath the facade she lives off of?

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**Chapter One: Isis Reed**

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**Stiles POV**

Trudging along the side of Scott, I huff in annoyance. Currently, as of right now, we're heading down to 'good' ol' Derek Hale's house, who had previously mentioned that Peter might have hidden the family Hale Bestiary; which may or may not have information on why Lydia is immune.

Yes, I do know that the book may lead us to the answer of Lydia's abnormality, but the said 'book' may not be inside the remains of the Hale mansion. I don't mean to sound selfish, but I don't really have the need, want, or desire to even glance at the charred house. The house Derek claims as his property wasn't intimidating, but the fact that ten people had been murdered inside of the house did. Not to mention, it's Derek-Creepy-Sour-Wolf-Hale's house!

I know what you're thinking, 'He's not that bad', but has anyone seen this guy in a human's perspective? Don't even answer that. Again, I repeat do not answer that.

"Stiles? Stiles? Stiles!"

"Hm?" I ask, my eyes widening and my gaze questioning.

Annoyance and frustration seeps into Scott's tone, "Have you ever been paying attention to anything I'm saying nowadays?"

Scrunching my eyes up in fabricated concentration, I begin to think of an actual response, I find none, and then let the sarcastic side of me take over,"Of course I've been paying attention to you. Let's see what you were talking about.. School, Derek, werewolf problems, Allison, Lydia, Allison, Allison and oh ALLISON!"

Scott looks over at me with that dark expression of his and opens his mouth to chide me,"Really Stiles? Here I am pouring my heart out to my 'Best Friend' and you aren't even paying attention."

Guilt seeps it's way into my heart, but I don't let it make it's way onto my thoughtful expression and respond with a retort,"I-I don't see anybody else out here. Why would I be paying attention, I'm not your 'Best Friend'. Am I?"

Shaking his head at me, Scott picks up his pace and quickly makes his way over to where Derek should be waiting for us. I don't understand why we couldn't have drove my jeep. What's wrong with driving to the reserve and then walking? I mean really, it would've been faster and smarter than walking all the way and I might've been able to show up to my Martial Arts class, but no. I, of course being best friends with a werewolf, could not show up to my lessons. At this rate, I'm going to have abs without even trying! Well, I wouldn't be complaining then, but I don't see it happening now. At least I don't think so….

Lifting my shirt up as Scott exchanges words with Derek, I begin inspecting my torso. I blink at the revelation, I have abs. Scrunching my brows in thought, I think of when I had even gained the slightest shape of an ab. As I inspect my abs, Scooby one and two just have to interrupt my musings.

"What are you doing?!"

"What are you doing here?"

I'm pretty sure you can connect the dots and see who has said what. Some of you can't, really. Well, Sourwolf said the latter.

"I have abs," I say to Scott, thoroughly ignoring the other werewolf.

"Really? Let me see!"

Enthusiastically, I reveal to Scott my abs while Derek chooses to silently shoot us with his laser beams. A.K.A his eyes.

Derek finally chooses to speak up and as usual he has decided to be blunt and say it how he sees it, "Are you two done obsessing over abs like fangirls yet?"

Looking up and at Derek, full in the face, I shoot him a glare and walk ahead of the two Clifford's. Heading down to the oh so familiar path, I vaguely hear the distinct words of, "What's wrong with him?"

Zoning the two out, I focus on that particular question. What was wrong with me? Yes, it was like me to be sarcastic, witty, fidgety, and always on the go, but it wasn't like me to intentionally be mean. I'm not my, happy-go-lucky self, no in fact I've changed.

Maybe I've changed because I was realising the changes around me, maybe I've changed because I realized I lost my innocence, maybe because I realized that there was no going back, and that I'd carry the burden of secrets on my shoulders until I was six feet under. Maybe it was all of the above. But, that wasn't what mattered; what mattered is that I've changed and I don't know why.

Stepping onto Derek's porch, I await the arrival of the two scoobies. As the said 'scoobies' step onto the porch, I carefully open the door to the burnt home of the one and only Derek Hale, and step inside. I hear Scott and Derek enter behind me, but pay them no mind; my focus having been captivated by something else. The small petite figure hanging up Derek's upstairs railing, was singing. The girl's voice was soft, melodious, as if it was a soothing river. Yet, it was spine tingling, like nails on a chalkboard. Studying the dainty figure in front of me, I find myself even more intrigued. The mystery girl looks as if she is around my age with with long pin-straight locks of deep ginger, fair skin, and a nice, curvy body.

Overall, you could tell that she was a catch; well as far as looks could go. I mean, so far I've found myself captivated by her and I haven't even heard her properly speak. Sure, she was singing softly in the most hypnotizing way, but singing doesn't say anything about her personality.

It was the way her cute button like nose twitched when she sang a line wrong, the way her long, dark lashes lay upon her delicately fierce cheeks, and the way her slightly clingy top accentuates her breasts; it was endearing. I've only seen this girl once in my lifetime and today was that day, but I somehow find myself dazzled, stunned, bewitched.

Shuffling around, I guiltily attempt to get a peek of her bra, and maybe something a bit…..more, but Derek interrupts my approach.

'Seriously? Do you want me to turn to porn? I mean honestly-'

Looking at Derek's expression, I instantly cut off any internal ramblings I'm having. What's Derek going to do? Exchanging a glance with an amused, yet slightly worried Scott. I gulp. My glance at Scott hadn't eased the feeling in the pit of my stomach, so I anxiously wait for Derek to make his next move. Being his usual self, blunt, Derek has apparently decided to tug on the beauty's luxurious ginger locks. Did I mention the length of her hair was long? I mean if the mystery girl's hair had been any shorter, Derek wouldn't have been able to touch her hair at all; after all he did have to stand upon the tips of his toes to even tug on it.

Then as if everything has slowed down, the girls eyes fly open; revealing the most gorgeous wide and doe like eyes ever. They were a beautiful hazel, mainly a pale, icy blue-green with different shades of blues, greens, and small flecks of browns in them. The most eye catching color in the mixture of blues, greens, and browns is the shade of Star-burst blue. Her cartoon eyes mesmerizing, and enchanting…. Like-Like Lydia. Is she supernatural or is it just me?

Shaking myself out of my haze, I finally regain some sense and snap my jaws shut. I'm just in time to see the show. I watch in awe as the unknown juvenile flips down and off the railing before sprinting away and out of sight.

"Really smooth Derek, real smooth. Why in the hell would you do that?!"

Derek looks at me with a bewildered expression and instantly, his face contorts into a bout of anger. "She was in my house, hanging off my upstairs railing, all the while listening to music and singing!What did you expect me to do? Did you want me to greet her with tea and treat her like an insolent child, chiding her like her parents probably do?! Huh, Stiles?!"

"No idea, but maybe you should have a surgeon check your ass! Because I'm sure the doctor will gladly tell you that your ass isn't a hat!"

As Derek glares at me, I actually find myself not cowering in fear..Huh...Maybe I should test this new found confidence.

"And while you're at it get some face reconstruction, maybe they'll fix your never ending scowl!"

Suddenly, Derek's gripping at the collar of my shirt, threatening me, and flashing his pretty little rubies.

"Yeah, yeah I know! You'll rip my throat out with my teeth! Now stop flashing your rubies and let me go so we can search for your Hale records!"

Who was that girl?

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**Isis Reed's POV**

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Fleeing away from the rundown house that I had been visiting for awhile now, I feel an emotion I know all too well, alarm. Many times I've had to flee away from situations , but this is one situation where I can honestly say it caught me off guard. I'm used to being found, but found by people who wanted to kill me; not people who were just kicking me out of their place they hung out at. Why would they even be there? I've gotten the impression nobody has really been there, judging by the lack of tracks outside. Then again, since it likes to rain here a lot, that may have been why there hadn't been any tire marks, foot steps, or mark of any sort of nature.

I hadn't meant to intrude on anyones property, but who would live or hang out with their friends in those conditions? I thought that the house had been abandoned, it had most certainly displayed the words abandoned. The house at one point in time must have been gorgeous, but now it was charred, with it's burnt and blackened remains. The only question that had really bothered me that was left was, who were those people?

The tall, dark, and brooding one, the one that had demanded attention and screamed power? The tan teen with an endearing jaw line, cute puppy eyes, and comforting, yet slightly alarming presence? Then there was the one boy, the other teen who had been pale, jumpy,and very slim; an almost anorexic looking figure, the one with the beautiful eyes and a comforting, warm presence?

Slowing myself down into a jog, I look around. There isn't a sign of anyone or anything following me. Sighing in relief, I look around to find the pine tree's with the marks etched onto them, the ones that allowed me to find my way back home.

Finding the tree's with the symbols of my path on them, I find my way back to home. Smiling slightly, I head inside the cramped space, filled with my books, clothes, and other things I'd need for my stay in Beacon Hills.

I could've stayed inside the safehouse my friends and I had built awhile back here, but I decided the space was too big and spacious and settled for my small, slightly claustrophobic space. Settling into my bed for the night, I sigh in frustration when I realise I have high school to attend to tomorrow.

Closing my eyes in annoyance, I'm automatically greeted with what I had promised my best friend Aurora, Rori for short; that I'd go to the safe house and dress with my clothes there. Staying true to my word, I head outside into the forest, grab my phone, pull on my shoes, and head towards the safe house.

Looking at the mansion like home, I smile fondly when I remember negotiating with the sellers. The overly large and elegant house was pricey, but I had managed to talk the sellers down a bit. In the end, the place is worth it.

In the front of the house it's strict, elegant, and rich looking. Tree's are tall, but neat in a manner, flowers of all sorts are scattered about strategically, showing a rather feminine taste, bushes are well maintained and fairly proportionate, a water fountain is placed in the middle of the lawn, and last, but not least, small decorations scour the front lawn such as bird feeders, baths, and houses.

The backyard, however, is a totally different story, but is still almost like something in a movie. A tire swing hangs upon a fairly aged tree, a huge underground pool gleams under the sun, a dance floor installed closely by, and an obvious bar used for partying sits snugly in between the two. There is also the two man made trails that breaks off into two branches; one leading towards a medium sized pond and the other leading you to a tree house where a wooden swing set resides.

Both sides of the house are my pride and joy, I personally being the one to design the lawns. If I'm not training, reading, running, or sleeping, I'm most likely designing or renovating. Smiling happily at the thought of renovations, I head inside the said mansion like home and go towards the master bedroom, my old room.

"Soon you'll be with your friends in this house and one of those friends will make you settle down. Whether you like it or not, your heart will make you," Rori's voice chimes inside my head. I shake my head in denial, Rori was always right, but this time she was going to be wrong. I'm never going to settle down, I'm a loner, occasionally allying with others and then moving on. Preparing myself for bed, I set my unneeded alarm and return to my dreams, to my terrors, to my nightmares.

* * *

My lips are the color of blood-red, cheeks a light pink, eyes outlined with lines of charcoal black, and my eyes covered in a well practised, smokey eye effect. My body covered in skin tight black skinny jeans, an England styled Rolling Stones shirt, and black heeled boots.

Pursing my lips in distaste at my makeup and boots, I shrug my shoulders absentmindedly and race downstairs. Pocketing my phone, I head towards the kitchen. The kitchen is one of the most expensive rooms in the house, renovations, new paint jobs, and brand new, high quality appliances had been replaced and redone at least every six months. The safe house had been built five and a half years ago, three weeks after I had ran away from the orphanage.

I had ran away after the three homicides and unsolved murder of a young couple who had adopted some of my fellow orphans; from there I had lived homeless and without destination, one day while sleeping on a subway train I had been revealed to Earth's biggest secret. I had been revealed to Earth's truth. I had been revealed to the supernatural. I remember it as if it were just yesterday.

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**Flashback**

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'Bang!', was the greeting I had been awoken with. Groaning softly, I rubbed my eyes in an attempt to awake myself completely, and groggily sat up. My back ached, the muscles throbbing in pain and relief as I twisted my back, effectively cracking it.

'Bang!', the cause of my awakening had sounded again, this time closer. Blinking away any other drowsiness that I'd had before, I looked for an escape. There wasn't one. Closing my eyes in frustration, I quickly gathered my things, and hid.

The sounds had now gotten closer, sounding as if they were right beside me, I heard two women, a couple animals, and a man struggling. Low, deep, and menacing growls could be heard, followed by two hisses. Suddenly, I heard a girl's voice.

"Stop! There is a human in our presence!"

The sounds had continued, but were soon diminished. Light footsteps could be heard and in front of me I had seen deep blue pumps, designer pumps. Slowly, I lifted my head up to see a girl at the age of about sixteen or seventeen.

The girl was beautiful with long, dirty blonde ringlets, honey colored eyes that were so wise and soul piercing it made even the purest person guilty, and a tall, curved figure. I focused on her, curious as to what she had said earlier, as to what she referred me to. A human. Wasn't she human too? I mean she had to be, there wasn't such a thing as aliens and such.

"Come, you have been revealed to things you shouldn't have been revealed to," the girl had said lightly, her tone motherly and wise.

Shaking, slightly I had allowed myself to be directed by the mysterious woman, she was slightly comforting and assuring. Looking at the ground, my eyes had widened; the floor was drenched in a crimson liquid. The woman had lead me along the trail, revealing me to an average heighted brunette girl, a tall and burly looking man, and the corpses of two strange looking creatures.

One creature had been a girl, with her hands curling into cat like claws, and lifeless orbs the same as a cat's. The other had been a male with dirty, black wolf like claws, glowing red eyes, and teeth elongated into sharp canines.

"What were they?" I had whispered, my voice painted with terror, and eyes wide and fixated on the two obviously inhuman man and girl.

"Supernatural."

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**End of Flashback**

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Two weeks later I had befriended Camille, Nathan, Rori, and many others. A week after that we had built the safe house. After departing with the group of both supernatural and human, I had chose to explore the world, and resided with the supernatural.

Shaking myself out of my reverie, I hurried across the grand kitchen's wooden floors, and over to the refrigerator where I had found my yoplait yogurt. Quickly, munching down on the breakfast, I grabbed an old, cropped jacket of mine, and headed out the door and off to hell. A.K.A. high school.

* * *

High school is hell, an unbearable, impossible hell. One so torturous, that after about three or four hours of it, you wanted to slam your head into the brickwalls of the school and gouge your eyeballs out.

"Excuse me, but you're in my way?" I hear a sickly sweet voice intrude upon my thoughts.

I turn around and face the person who owned the voice. The strawberry blonde had obviously been one of the populars, with her pristine and impeccable appearance; makeup, clothes, jewelry and all perfect, not a single hair out of place.

I looked her up and down, but didn't move. This girl obviously needed to learn actual manners. I mean, seriously, did anybody actually know how to treat others anymore? Regardless of what you've heard about them, what you've seen them do, or how they look… Did anybody know?

"You must of not heard me. So I'm going to repeat myself and you should know that I don't like doing that. Excuse. Me," the girl prissily says.

"I heard you...but I decided that until you'd actually ask me to move in a real polite mannered way, that I'd stay where I am."

The strawberry blonde huffs, flicks her well groomed over her shoulder, and walks around me. I roll my eyes, so much for that. All of the sudden, the girl stops in her cat like strut, and turns around. I raise an eyebrow.

"Nice makeup, but the rags need to go sweetheart. I'm Lydia Martin, call me when you want to actually be a fashionable girl"

I look at her blankly, did she honestly just manage to both compliment and diss me? I scoff aloud, unbelieveable. What ever. I need something to do.

* * *

"McCall, Argent! You're up!"

Wait, what was that?

My eyes widen in realization and I find myself sprinting in the direction of that voice, of Coach Finstock's voice. Maybe, hopefully the man'll let me participate in the class; as long as it's gym. Entering the room, I hear the coach's voice slice through my thoughts.

"Who are you?"

I raise a brow, but nevertheless give the information up, "Isis. Isis Reed. I'm a new student here at Beacon High."

Silently, I chuckle at the puzzled expression that makes its way onto the coach's face when he scans through his clipboard and doesn't find my name.

"You're at the wrong class."

"I know, it's my free period and I'm bored. Randomly, I started roaming the halls and then an idea hit me. I thought that maybe you'd let me join your class. So, do you mind? If I join, that is."

A bewildered expression enters upon the Finstock's face," Yeah..I..I-I guess.. Welcome to Beacon Hills Reed."

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**Coach Finstock's POV**

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There is a girl participating in my gym class, on her own free time. What the hell? A girl. In her own free time. In my class. Am I going insane? A girl is participating in my gym class, in her own free time.

"Martin! Girls don't usually participate in gym on their own free time, do they?"

The young teen shakes her head slowly at me in a confused way, I sigh.

What on planet Earth is happening? Why in the hell would a new girl be willingly participating in my gym class in her own free time?

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**Isis Reed's POV**

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As I watch Coach Finstock ask Lydia Martin if girls normally participate in gym as I'm doing, I can't help, but laugh. I have to say, I think this is dear old Finstock's first time ever coming upon a situation like this. I mean why would he ask another if he has had a situation like this before? Yeah, that's what I thought, you don't have an idea do you?

Scanning the class, I recognize Erica Reyes, a very shy and jittery girl I sit by in English, Lydia Martin who dissed and complimented me on my appearance today, and the two boys I'd seen at that old, 'abandoned' house.

The tan boy's climbing the wall with yet another slightly familiar face, I just can't seem to place her though. I do believe her last name is Argent. Suddenly, the tan boy falls to the ground, and the girl smirks before winning.

As all of this happens, I watch the pale boy from the house make his way over to me. On the sly, I amusedly watch as the pasty skinned boy attempts to nonchalantly make his way over to me, it's very noticeable. Almost too easy to spot his attempt.

Just as the pale boy is within talking distance, I hear Finstock call up the another pair to go rock-wall climbing, "Reed! Whittemore! You're up!"

I look at the boy that's gaping at me, wink, and run up to the rockwall. Thank you Finstock! I smirk as I hear the boy groan in both frustration and annoyance, and silently laugh as I put on my harness.

Looking up and over at my opponent, I roll my eyes. The fellow teen looks to be the typical jock; perfect hair, perfect eyes, and perfect clothes. Oh yeah, he is most definitely a jock.

"I'm conflicted," I hear the boy start, "Should I let this beautiful, but freaky nobody have it easy? Or should I cream her?"

I look up at the gym's ceiling in annoyance, that boy has a little too much confidence, turning it into arrogant cockiness.

"Bring it!" I snark back at the boy.

Coach Finstock blew his whistle and begins to say the six words I've heard every jock I've ever met say to me, "You apparently don't know who you're talking-"

I cut the boy off by rolling my eyes and starting to climb the wall with. As I make my way to the top with well practised expertise, I hear Coach Finstock yell ,"Jackson! Are you just gonna let her beat you? Huh Whittemore?! Put your head in the game!"

"Son of a bitch," I hear Whittemore curse softly under his breath.

Laughing quietly, I wait for the jock to catch up.

"Parkah Iyer once said,"Remember that in the end, we get remembered for our character, attitude, and selflessness. The titles, perks, runs, and wickets are secondary, and oh-so-fleeting". I have found this to be true so, remember Whittemore, remember."

Reaching the top of the rock-wall, I kick off the wall and wait for my opponent to finish. Eventually, Finstock just yells at Jackson to get down. He wasn't even trying to climb the rest of the wall, he was in too much shock.

"Stilinkski! Erica! You're up!"

Interesting… Pale boy's last name is Stilinski. Interesting, very interesting indeed.

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**A/N: Okay so I took this off the hands of a friend of mine! Lila had been too busy to write this story and, sadly, had to find someone who'd write it for her. I'd love to tell you all that I came up with all of these idea's and the OC, but I did not. Lavender Harpy has created both the plot and Isis Reed. Lila did most of the plans for chapters and wrote nearly all of chapters 1-2. So tell me, did you like it, hate it, love it? Why didn't you or why did you like it? Did I make any mistakes? I'm not going to demand that you review every single time, but I really would like you to review. Reviews give me motivation to write! Chapter 1, part 2 will be up soon!**

**P.S.- Call me either Lena or Bell please!**

**~Aileen~Bell~Lena~**


	2. Chapter 1 Part 2: Isis Reed

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything except for the writing of chapter 3 and up. Anything you recognize, including the OC character, is not mine.**

* * *

**Previously:**

_"Stilinski! Erica! You're up!"_

_Interesting… Pale boy's last name is Stilinski. Interesting, very interesting indeed._

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**Chapter One Part Two: **Isis Reed

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"Why don't you assholes man the fuck up and stop laughing at her?"

Most of the present student body's laughter ceases at my command. Staring down my fellow peers, I harden my gaze when one boy decides to be brave, and challenges me.

"And what if I don't want to?"

I tilt my head to the side and smile widely at the boy, "If you don't well...I'm gonna make you."

Coach Finstock's voice is suddenly heard, his tone warning the boy,"I'll let her Greenburg."

doesn't take the hint and scoffs, "Oh please, like she could even hurt me."

I smile sweetly as I begin to circle around the boy seductively, biting my lip I feign to be hitting on the hormone crazed boy. Ending my predatorial like circle, I step closer to him, and look up at Greenburg with wide, 'lust' filled eyes.

"You're right, I could never hurt you."

Greenburg smiles and his eyes darken as I trail my fingernails seductively around his lips, I look at Coach Finstock in signal, and he turns around and purposely listens to music.

Suddenly, I trail down to the boy's shirt collar and pull him down towards my face level. Greenburg's eyes widen as I lean into 'kiss' him, but pull his face away and nail his nose, hard, with my right fist. A satisfying crunch is heard, but I'm not done. Grabbing Greenburg's thumb, I twist his arm behind him, and do the same with the other one.

Pulling the boy to his knees, I lean into his ear and whisper,"I think you should _apologize_ to Erica, don't you?"

"Go to hell, bitch."

I tut the boy and twist his arms so that they digs into his back, and singsong,"That wasn't the response I'm looking for."

"And I said go to hell, _bitch_."

Vindictively, I smile, and whisper into his ear,"You have about five seconds to apologize to Erica or I'm going to break your arms."

Silence is now my response, so I begin to count down for the boy.

"One….Two….Three….Four….Five," I say clearly and twist one of his arms until I hear the satisfying 'pop' of a dislocated shoulder.

"You bitch!" Greenberg shouts aloud in pain.

"_Apologize_, or the next thing that gets broken..is your _face_."

Silence, yet again, is my response.

Annoyance seeps into my cocktail of fury and I twist his shoulder, ready to actually break his arm.

"I'm sorry!"

I smile, "Now were getting somewhere...Why and who are you apologizing to?"

I twist the teenage boy's arm when he doesn't respond, "I'm sorry Erica, for making fun of you!"

"Your getting there Greeny, but when you apologize you look into that person's eyes."

Finally, the teenage boy complies and looks into Erica's eyes, apologizing.

I furrow my brows and smile like a cheshire cat when I come up with a solution.

"Coach Finstock?"

"Yes?"

I smile when I realize the coach had given up on pretending he didn't know what was going on and watched the boy's punishment.

"That apology didn't sound very sincere, did it?"

The Finstock's eyes gleam with mischief as he says what my thoughts echo,"No it didnt."

I smirk at the response and twist the arm with the dislocated shoulder until I heard the satisfying crunch of a broken arm. Moving on to the next arm, I hiss in anger when a tan hand grabs my arm, and forces me to let go.

When I let go, I'm automatically restrained by the mystery tanned arm. I allow myself to be held hostage and smirk as Greenberg tries to move his broken arm so he can stop the bleeding of his broken nose.

_Hm...Maybe McCall's restraining me… Oh yeah, it is most definitely him._

Soon, everything is simmered down and the boy's grip loosens around me and I release myself while saying, "Thank you?"

I pause and wait to hear a response, but find none so I carry on to my last class of the day, music.

"Wait!"

"Yes?" I ask.

"What were you doing at _Miguel's_ property yesterday?"

_Ah, so we're now using code names?_

I turn around and look at the pair, scrunching up my eyebrows to feign confusion; seeing me do so, the tanned boy speaks up, "At the old abandoned looking house."

Focusing on my heart rate I begin to lie, "I'm sorry, but I haven't the slightest clue as to what you're talking about."

The Stilinski looks at me in disbelief before beginning to rant, "You do to know what we're talking about. We saw you at that house. You were_ singing_ and _hanging_ off of a railing! I_ know_ yo-"

My heart rate spikes in anger and fury seeps into my calm tone, "I'm sorry, I do not know what you're talking about. You do not _'know'_ where I was at yesterday and I'd appreciate if you'd stop placing accusations upon my head! Now if you'll excuse me I must find my music class."

Stomping away from the pair in anger, I gasp when I see Erica begin to climb the wall, but leave believing that maybe she had now found the courage to do it.

"Scott, is it her?"

"No, her heartbeat was steady. Well, except for when you said we saw her and stuff, but that was probably out of anger. But her scent, it was the same…"

I pause momentarily,_ what are they talking about?_ The only way anyone could tell if I was lying by heartbeat without a machine and smell my scent is one with supernatural abilities. _Is Scott a part of the supernatural realm?_

"Hold on! Please? We must've mistaken you for someone else! At least tell us one thing?"

"What is it," I ask, annoyance and impatience seeping into my tone.

"Your name, what is it?"

I smirk, walking as I respond, "Isis, Isis Reed."

Just as I exit the room, I can faintly hear the Stilinski boy introduce himself and his friend to me, "I'm Stiles and my friend, he's Scott!"

I just smirk and head to my next class, not bothering to even slow down my pace.

_I'll be watching you, you and your little friend Stilinski._

* * *

The day of my first day of school is over and I'm practically _dying_ of excitement to go to my little shack and then train at the safe house. I frown at the thought of always traveling between my shack and safe house… I probably should just move into the safe house and get it over with. Nodding at the plan to go to the shack, empty it, and set up my room at the safe house, I head to the exit of the door while looking for my Iphone in my bag.

Finally, I find my phone, but as soon as I do I'm met with the sensation of ramming into a brick wall. Crashing down to the floor backwards, I'm suddenly caught by the said _'brick wall'_.

"Oh, hey I'm sorry. Are you okay?

Slowly, I nod in response to the stranger, and feel their burning gaze.

"Why are your eyes still closed then?"

Stupidly, I peek one eye open and, soon, open the other. The 'brick wall' loosens his grip and I step out of his arms. The boy was, obviously, not a brick wall, but instead a tall, dark, and muscular looking tennager. Looking at the African-American I frown when I sense the air around him, it was a dark and filled with loneliness. Thinking back to what Serenity, Selene, Rori, and all of my other friends would've wanted me to do, I put upon my face the most dazzling smile I can muster.

"Sorry," I mutter sheepishly and hold out my hand, "I'm Isis, Isis Reed."

The mystery fellow teen reaches his hand out and shakes mine, while muttering out an introduction, "Boyd, just call me Boyd."

Studying Boyd with small smile I, even further more, find that he has this...shy air about him. I internally sigh, this might be more of a challenge than I bargained for. I shake those thoughts away and begin to speak up, "Well Boyd, I gotta go unpack and all, but hey maybe we'll sit together at lunch tomorrow? I mean, you can help me learn about the people here and we'll get to know each other?"

Stunned, Boyd furrows his brows before saying three words, "Yeah? Sure? Okay."

I, again, smile at Boyd and wave goodbye to him before hurriedly rushing out of the school doors. Many cars are still left, mainly because of some sports practice, football or something like that. Rolling my eyes at the thought of even attending such event, I grab my car keys, unlock my car doors, start my baby up, and drive off to the safe house.

* * *

Heaving the last box up to my bedroom, I let out a grunt of victory when I realize everything has been moved from the shack to my new room successfully. Looking around the room, I huff in annoyance when I realize that every room in the house except for the kitchen has been painted white.

Thinking of redecorating everything, I smile and head off and down to the mall.

* * *

"Thinking of buying a bedroom suit are you?"

I swivel around to find the owner of the smooth, persuasive voice. I'm met with the sight of a tall, lanky and handsome man. I give the man a questioning gaze and pretend to not notice him.

"Pretending to have not noticed me is a little low, don't you think?"

I hum in agreement and snap back, "Asking a stranger about their plans on what they're looking for is a little odd_, don't you think_?"

The man hums in agreement, but quickly responds, "It is, but since I'm an_ employee_ it's sort of my_ job_...So, how may I help you my lady?"

I give the man a look with annoyance expressed all throughout my features, but he doesn't seem to get the hint so I relent and ask him, "Do you know of a place where there are actually comforters that _aren't_ all pink and frilly?"

A smile and a motion to follow him, is my response. Warily, I follow the man, but scan my areas, making sure there is always an escape route. Eventually, we come to a stop where there are thousands of blankets to choose from.

"Thank you," I say to the man.

"Only thank me if you'll go to dinner with me," the man says with confidence, but not arrogance.

I raise an eyebrow, but take his picture and ask for his number and name, saying that I'll call him when I get my room and everything settled.

"Your name?"

I smile and quickly respond, "I almost forgot! Isis, Isis Reed."

The man walks away satisfied and I roll my eyes in distaste, _Johnny boy_ won't be getting a call anytime soon.

* * *

Setting the last of my bags down in the nearest living room, I sigh in exasperation at the thought of finding all new furniture, and paint for all of the rooms. I roll my eyes at my childish acts and head downstairs into the basement.

Entering my personal library, I grin at the smell of old leather and paper. This library is something I deemed off limits when I had first even thought of creating it, unless I escorted the guests.

Shaking off the beginnings of a flashback, I head over to where my most prized possession, a book I had written myself.

The book's like a bestiary and a journal combined, it didn't just have myths on supernatural creatures; it had myths, personal experiences with them, facts about that certain creatures, and ways to defend yourself against the supernatural realm. This leather bound book is something I've made so that both my future generations and my friend's future generations could learn about the real world, instead of a world filled with false hopes and delusional lies. I'm still not finished with it, I only write about the creatures if I've seen them myself and I still have many more to meet.

Grabbing the book off of it's designated shelf, I press a small button, and swiftly put it back. The wall begins to move and as it does, I press my back firmly against it, allowing myself to be swept away.

The wall comes to a sudden stop and I'm met with the familiar sight of my gym or as my friends like to call it, the training room. It's left exactly like it had been before, the way I had designed it to be; secret weapon compartments and all.

One wall is completely dedicated to both archery and firearms; bullets modified to harm a specific type of creature and arrows made to harm a specific creature whether it be soaked in a substance, made out of or with a certain substance, or have a special attachment.

Another wall is dedicated to bombs, grenades, and other small gadget's that either someone long before me has created, something I've modified, or something I've created. Grenades made to release a certain substance into the air, bombs made to not only explode, but release a certain substance, spying camera's, and much, much more.

The last wall dedicated to anything, is dedicated to daggers, throwing knives, and swords. Each and every weapon made to harm a certain creature or even a human. Daggers had been created to fit into special jackets, each one having it's own deadly creature to harm. Throwing knives were created to fit into special jackets and made with a certain substance to harm or injure a certain creature. Swords both soaked and made with certain substances to harm both supernatural and regular being, but some modified to be hidden or have certain advantages.

That wasn't all that was in the gym. A large closet holds things to exercise with and books to read about battle strategies and weapons, hidden compartments hold varieties of weapons, and an obstacle course that's changed once a month by a friend of mine stands tall and proud in the center of it all.

Most would think that I'm good at fighting, but I'm really not. Sure, I know some self defense moves, but against a supernatural being, I'm useless. I don't really know how to use any weapon and I'm really good at gymnastics, but doing flips and tricks really doesn't help when it comes to a fight. I wasn't taught to actually defend myself, but to flee away from the situation. I'll admit it, I'm trained to run away from problems and I'm good at that; I just never try to avoid the problem. I always stay where the supernatural resides and that is my biggest problem. Not all of them will want to kill me, but I'm positive there will always be that one person that tries to kill me, anywhere and everywhere I go.

The only thing I'm good and trained for is one and only one thing, flight.

* * *

Finishing my obstacle course, I wipe the sweat off of my forehead and grab my water bottle. I'm absolutely exhausted. Chad had put extra things that I had not anticipated in the obstacle course, smart boy he is. I wonder what he'll add or take away next month? Shrugging to myself, I quickly finish off the rest of my water.

Exiting the basement altogether, I find my thoughts wandering off to tomorrow. I have much planned for tomorrow, redecorating the whole house, shopping, homework, training, running, and going to a gym to dance and practice my gymnastics.

Putting my water bottle into the sink, I quickly wash, dry, and put it away before heading upstairs.

Time to take a shower and hit the bed Fred.

**)0(**

**Three Days Later**

**)0(**

I frown at the outfit Rori had texted me to wear, it was frilly. I sighed in an 'oh well' way because if it were up to Aurora Fredrickson it'd not only be frilly, but pink and I do not do pink.

The abominable outfit I was currently wearing consisted of black skinny jeans, a white tanktop, a dark blue Floral Crochet Knit Mesh top, a cropped white leather jacket, and Soda Goalie's Black Nubuck Pleated Slip on ballet flats.

Blinking at my choice of outfit, I shake my head and quickly look over my choice of makeup. Light blush, black eyeliner, a light coat of mascara, a light coat natural pink glossy lipstick, and natural looking eyeshadow.

Telling myself that it could be worse, I exit the school's restroom and head to lunch. As I enter the lunchroom, an irritated sigh leaves glossed lips. I've only been here for four day and I already feel the urge to rip my head off because of most of my fellow peers. The only thing that actually keeps me from attempting to do so and stay sane is Boyd. Ever since the day we bumped to each other we've been as inseparable as we're allowed to be, meaning we stay with or near each other in all of our classes and eat together at lunch.

Boyd is a great guy and I really don't know why he doesn't have any friends, except for me, Seriously, sure at first Boyd's introverted and shy, but once you get to know him he's sweet, a little on the quiet side, but understanding and funny. If I dated, I'd choose him!

Shaking my head in exasperation, I head towards the lunch line where Boyd's waiting for me. I give him a small smile and give the gawking students a glare. Erica Reyes and Vernon Boyd are the only ones in this school that'll see the nice side of me.

Standing beside the buff teenager, we both quietly get into line, me offering to pay for our lunch, not taking no for an answer, and paying for both of our lunches. I opting for a simple blueberry muffin and water, Boyd choosing pizza, a chocolate chip muffin, applesauce, and a gatorade.

Stepping out of line together in sync, Boyd and I head to our usual lunch spot. I was thoroughly relieved to see that everyone else had given up on sitting with the 'new girl' and went back to their usual cliche groups. I no longer have to glare at the overly excited teenagers and give that meaningful glance to Boyd so that I could signal for us to find another spot.

Sitting down beside Boyd, I jump slightly at the sound of a tray being slammed down across from Boyd and I.

_Wham!_

Looking up to scare the person behind the slamming of trays, I surprisingly find that it's Stiles who had slammed his tray down. I look over to Boyd and find that he's not surprised with this unexpected visitor, so I begin to play with my water. Beginning to get bored with my current occupation of playing with water, I look up to see what Boyd and Stiles our doing. The two boys were negotiating.

_Huh, I wonder what they're negotiating about._

_Eh, it has money involved so obviously it's something._

Picking up my muffin, I watch the two in amusement while nibbling on the said muffin.

"Come on man, have you seen the piece of crap Jeep I drive?"

Boyd raises his eyebrows and challenges Stiles, "Have you seen the piece of crap _bus_ I take?"

I chuckle silently when Stiles decides to finally relent, and lays down an extra ten on the already formed pile of cash. Boyd smiles a tight, but small smile and dangles a pair of keys from his hand. Stiles warily takes them and leaves running.

I give a bout of laughter and look at Boyd questioningly, "What was that about?"

"Stiles wanted the ice skating rink keys, it's where I work at, so I have access to them. Stilinski somehow knew and told me that he'd pay me fifty bucks to borrow them for one full night. I'm betting that he knew of my job because of his father though," Boyd explains.

"What about his old man?" I ask, popping the last piece of muffin into my mouth.

"His dad is the Sheriff."

I raise my eyebrows in a slightly surprised way before saying, "Oh."

Looking over at Stilinski I, unsurprisingly, find him talking to Scott McCall. So, a Sheriff's boy? Somehow I find that making a little more sense, but there is most definitely something else going on with McCall and his little party of friends, possibly the girlfriend too. I furrow my eyebrows when I realize that little Stilinski dragging Boyd into the mess of the Supernatural realm.

Forming a plan inside my head, I grin when I have it all set up, "Hey Boyd, what do ya think about me giving you a ride home tomorrow?"

"I'd say that I'd be really grateful and I'd owe you. You sure you want to?"

I smile an evil smile and give a little laugh, saying, "Nonsense, now why would I ask if it'd be a problem? Plus, we have to study for that one test. That is if you don't have anything to do?"

I look over at Boyd, my gaze questioning him on whether he was or wasn't busy. He shakes his head in a sign of, 'no', perfect.

I begin to reply, but I'm interrupted by a busty blonde dramatically entering into the lunchroom. I furrow my brows, in yet again, confusion. I focus in on the girl, she looks familiar. Realization hits me, that's Erica. Wait, that isn't possible. could not have changed that much in the course of a few days, unless… Unless she had the aid of the supernatural.

As Erica takes a bite of some horny teenage boy's apple, I look over to Boyd.

"Hey, I'm going to be gone for the rest of today and for school tomorrow because of some doctor's appointment, but I'll be here to pick you up. See ya."

Boyd nods in an understanding way and I rush out of the cafeteria. I smile I'm just in time to see 's get into tall, dark, and brooding's vehicle. The mystery guy then flashes a quick, cheesy smile and speeds off and into the distance.

_What the hell?_

Something just happened between Stiles, Scott, Derek, and Erica and I just have the feeling that Allison's included in it and that Boyd, Lydia, and Jackson are soon going to be included in the mix. What is going on? Determination seeps it's way into every fiber of my being, I'm going to find out, if it's the last thing I do. I will find out. Maybe, and just maybe I'll find a hint as to what's going on at the skating rink.

* * *

Paint splattered and waiting on Boyd in my shiny black Vanquish, I scan the bustling parking lot full of my fellow peers. What's taking him so long? Catching sight of the buff boy, I sigh in relief. Wait, he's talking to someone. Who is that? Is he seriously talking to tall, dark, and brooding? Why's Boyd talking to him? Please tell me that's someone else. Yeah, that's it Isis, they just look like brooding.

Boyd and the mystery guy's conversation ends and I carefully watch Boyd smoothly make his way over to me. Suddenly, my concentration's lost and the leather, tall, dark, and brooding's look-a-like catches my eye. I freeze. Oh, no. Boyd, what have you gotten yourself into? I knew it, I just knew it. I knew that Boyd was going to somehow get caught into this mix.

I vaguely hear Boyd clambering into my car, my eyes still locked with brooding's eyes. Should I ask Boyd who he was talking to? Or should I leave it alone? Maybe I should leave it alone… No, no, no! I can't do that! I'll ask him.

"So Boyd, who were ya talking to?" I ask casually, breaking off the stare down between brooding and I.

"Hm?"

"Ya know, the guy you were talking to before you came over and into the car. Who was it?"

"Oh, uh...Derek?"

I smile in a jokingly manner and manage to kindly put out, "If he's tall, dark, and brooding.. Then yes."

Boyd chuckles quietly at the statement and nods, before saying, "Yeah, that's Derek Hale for ya."

Sending a sharp glare at the brooding Derek, I mutter a sentence to him; testing to see if he could hear it, "You better stay away from him Derek Hale."

The reaction's instantaneous. Derek's ears twitch as if he were a dog and his eyes narrow into a threatening glare at me.

"What'd you say?"

I smile over at Boyd, "Nothing, I was just saying that I need the directions to your house."

Boyd nods and soon, I start driving off, following Boyd's directions. All the while, I'm thinking about Derek and what he just might be.

* * *

"So, Boyd. Since we've finished studying what do you wanna do?"

"I don't know. Do you want to do anything?"

"Hm.. How about we go to your job and ice skate! Oh and then after that we can go to the movies and go out to dinner!"

"Yeah, sure... But maybe we should do dinner first, then skate, and save the movie for another time," Boyd suggests.

Weighing the offer, I nod at Boyd in agreement and then both Boyd and I head to his favorite restaurant.

* * *

"Boyd, hurry up! I wanna ice skate!" I whine, sounding exactly like the seventeen year old teenager I am.

Rolling his eyes at me, Boyd smiles and jokingly starts walking in slow motion, "I'm going as fast as I can!"

"Pwetty, pwetty pwease?" I ask Boyd, giving him the puppy dog look.

Boyd, stubbornly, refuses to do as I've asked and keeps walking in slow motion, so I pull out the big guns. Making my lip quiver and my eyes tear up, I inwardly smile at Boyd's panicked reaction.

"No, no, no, no! Don't cry! Look, see? I'm walking fast!" Boyd shouts, while running towards the entrance.

I grin at Boyd while saying, "Gotcha!"

I watch the teen roll his eyes, unlock the ice rink's door, and open it for me.

_Ah, Boyd, such a gentleman._

* * *

Dragging Boyd into the photobooth, I sit on his lap while taking the pictures, but we don't mind. The first one we take is serious, the second goofy, the third I kiss his cheek, the fourth we take we pose, and the fifth we do another goofy one.

Getting out of the machine, I grab our pictures, but not before noticing some pictures lying on the ground. Boyd is clambering out of the booth, so I quickly stuff the pictures in my skinny jeans and scan Boyd and I's.

I smile at all of them, but the fifth one. On that one, Boyd's eyes flare up like a werewolves and ruins the picture. Frowning, I take the second, third, and fourth.

"Hey! Let's do it again!" I shout gleefully.

Taking another five shots, I frown when they all come out normal and take the first shot of photo's we did and another photo from the second set_. Maybe it was just a malfunction…_

* * *

I sigh in boredom as I wait on Boyd… Grabbing the photo's from my pocket that I'd found, I smile in victory when I realize it's of Scott and Allison. All five of the photo's have Scott with flaring eyes, so he was either werewolf or a mai.

Boyd, right now, is currently on the skating rink cleaner thing, cleaning the ice we skated on. Alright, don't judge me just because I don't know the name of the piece of machinery. I didn't learn how to skate in skating rinks, nope all of us orphanage kids found a pond to learn on and used skating shoes that were either donated or bought by me from a thrift store.

Blocking out the world I start to think of my life in the orphanage. Suddenly, I Scott's voice invades my mind.

Wait. What's Scotty boy talking about? Full moon's. Hunter's. Are you fucking kidding me? Well, I guess that narrows it down to werewolf. But, really Boyd! You want to become a werewolf and on every full moon, howl at the fucking moon! Man, you have some balls! Huh, you do not sit alone… I resent that. I wasn't here today, but I sit with ya! And I didn't skip school because I didn't want to sit by you! I just wouldn't have sat by you!

"If you're looking for friends Boyd you can do a lot better than Derek."

And what do you fucking know, Derek just decides to pop up and out of absolutely nowhere! My eyes widen as realization hits me like a ton of bricks, Derek's the puppy maker, the alpha!

"Well that really hurts, Scott," Derek says, feigning hurt.

_Eh I personally agree..ass-wipe._

"I mean if your going to review me, at least take a uh...consensus. Erica, hows life been for you since we met?"

"Hm.. In a word, transformative," Erica says before showing off and confirming my suspicions.

"Issac?"

Ah so dere's the other pup!

"Well, I'm a little bummed about being a fugitive, but other than that I'm great."

Hm.. We gotta Derek Minion on our hands… It's either that or a wanna-be.

"Wait, hold on. This isn't exactly a fair fight."

"Then go home Scott."

"I meant for them."

_Damn! You go get 'em Scott! Oh! That's gotta hurt!_

My eyes widen in fear as Derek starts to go after Scott while transforming. The transformation is well practiced and controlled, making fear seep into my bones. Every sign is there. Derek Hale is either a natural born werewolf or has been a werewolf for a long time.

Every bone in my body, every instinct I have tells me to flee, but for the first time in my life.. I'm paralyzed from the fear within me. I watch Derek's every move with wide, tear filled eyes. Alarm sets into my body as Derek chokes Scott McCall with his foot. Derek continues to keep do it, pressing down and into his windpipe. Instantly, my mind races with a flashback from my time in the orphanage.

**)0(**

**Flashback**

**)0(**

"You_ insolent_ child! That is not how you clean the floorboards! You clean it in a circular motion and go over the cracks and crevices with you toothbrush!"

Young me's eyes widen and fill with tears, "B-but I did do that."

"Do not lie to me! What do you think of me as? A fool! No you did not use your toothbrush and go over the cracks and crevices!"

Suddenly, I was back inside my eight year old body. I'm quivering in fear and stuttering in terror, "I'm supposed to brush my teeth with my toothbrush though."

Mrs. Rogers stalked over to me, jerking me up as she slapped me against my bruised cheek. Warm, salty tears stream down my face an ongoing river.

"Do not cry! A little tap to the cheek is nothing to fret over!"

I cry harder at the woman's choice of words, sinking down to the floor. Suddenly, I pulled up and off of the floor by the neck. wrinkled hand releases me as she throws me to the floor with immense strength. The elder woman continued the process until a crack was heard, sitting me down; allowing me to believe the beating is over.

I attempt to get up, but turns around and stomps her foot down and onto my windpipe. Not bothering to lessen the pressure, increases the pressure. Finally, the woman ceases the torture, only because of the shrill cry of an infant sounds throughout the orphanage.

"Go take care of your child, you little whore," Mrs. Rogers orders me and leaves, but not before spitting onto my frail and injured body, talking about a child that wasn't any part of me.

**)0(**

**End of Flashback**

**)0(**

Returning to reality with a gasp of air, I don't realize that I'm not in the orphanage anymore and belt out shrieking.

Abruptly, my screams die down when I regain control from seeing Boyd's bite, and then look in front of me to be met with the sight of Derek Hale.

The next thing I know, Derek's kneeling down in front of me, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear, and pulling my head up close, and connecting his to mine; effectively making me unconscious.

* * *

Regaining consciousness, I note that my eyelids feel heavy, my heads abnormally throbbing with a headache, and my wrists feel as if they're on fire. Slowly, I pry my eyelids open. Hissing in pain, I blink away my momentary blindness. Finally, my eyes are adjusted to the lighting.

Vague shapes turn to finer details. What had once looked like a bright light filled room with a couch in it, turned into a dingy subway train with a big lamp lighting the room. Why am I in a subway train? As if to answer my question, last night's adventures return to me in flashes. Oh. My. Holy. God. Derek kidnapped me.

"Good, you're finally up."

"_Obviously_," I snarl at Derek.

"No need to get snappy."

Looking at him with an incredulous expression, I gesture towards my shackled hands. I begin to start saying a rather sarcastic remark, but quickly cut myself off; I still want to live and see the actual daylight. Derek waits for the remark to be said with a smirk, but I refuse to sign my death sentence.

"What do you want?" I relent.

"I want to know if you'll keep the secret."

I look at him in annoyance with a mixture of incredulity and can't fight the words that spill out of my mouth, "I've met worse than your kind. You're no more than that of a_ flea_ compared to others . Trust me, you wouldn't stand a chance against the creatures I've met."

"Really?" Derek asks, leaning in and getting closer to my face.

"Really." I confirm , leaning in even closer, feeling his hot breath against my own.

"We'll just see about that," Derek says, chuckling darkly and just as he does; he takes the metal cuffs around my wrists, and releases me. I close my eyes, his threat playing all throughout my mind.

* * *

Opening the door to the safe house, I breathe in a sigh of relief. I'm exhausted, Derek hadn't been the kindest gentleman and opted to leave me, deserted in the middle of Beacon Hills. It had took awhile, but eventually I found the woods and found the safe house.

Turning on the lights to the kitchen, I grab two of my water bottles and drink them dry, and put them in the sink. Not even othering to wash the dishes, I go upstairs into my bathroom for a shower.

Stepping into the hot shower, I allow myself to relax and massage the knots out of my back ,I wash my hair with my favorite shampoo, finish the shower by scrubbing the dirt and grime off of my body, and rinsing off.

Wrapping a fluffy towel around my long hair, I put on a silky gown of mine and head to bed.

* * *

Waking up, I groggily change into a pair of red cotton short shorts and a black tanktop with a built in bra. My long mess of ginger seaweed is tangled and I'm too wore out to even bother with it and put it into a messy bun on the top of my head. I quickly apply some chapstick to my chapped lips and put two coats of black eyeliner on my bottom eyelids.

_Tap! Tap!_

Groaning in frustration, I grab a granola bar and answer the door while finishing off. The doorway is empty, but a note lies on the doorstep. Bending over, I pick up the sheet of paper and read:

_Ever wonder what would happen if a hunter gets bitten?_

_Ever wonder what happens if you get bitten?_

_What do you think your fellow hunters and friends would have to do?_

_When all it would take to change everything, is one bite_

"What the hell?" I whisper.

A clothed hand appears around my mouth and black spots start filling my vision up, and once again I'm rendered unconscious.

* * *

Groggily, I feel myself returning back to reality. My body aches all over. Man what did I do last night? Yawning widely, I attempt to stretch my arms, but find that I can't. _Why can't I stretch my arms?_ Slowly, my senses get sharper and I can feel the cold metal beneath me, the rough sandy like texture of ropes tying me down and smell the scent of chlorine and bleach.

_Where am I?_

Panic bubbles up within me, but I take deep breaths to calm myself before opening my eye. My eye reveal a scene that I'd have never thought possible,.

_Why on Earth am I always being kidnapped?_

_I mean, really? I'm roped up and tied to a metal chair in the middle of a swimming pool, one that dry and empty, void of any water._

"Ever wonder what happens if a_ hunter_ gets bitten?"

"Ever wonder what happens if _you_ get bitten?"

"What do you think your friends and hunters would _have_ to do?"

"When all it would take to change _everything_, is one bite."

Frantically, I look around. A man's silhouette appear's. As he walks towards me, the finer details of his face and figure show up. The man is older, in his mid or late thirties, with salt and peppered light brown hair and blue eyes, a shade that just so happens to be in my eyes. _Who is this man?_

"You must be Isis Reed. Welcome to the business, training begins now."

Tears pool into my eyes as water starts rushing into the swimming pool. I can't die now. My determination crumbles when I realize that I don't know how to handle a situation like this. I was taught to avoid getting caught in a situation like this, not to fight or how to escape things like this.

Sympathy shines behind the man's eyes, but he shakes his head as if he is telling himself, 'no'. Handing me a dull, broken arrow the man walks away with light footsteps. Gripping the arrow tightly as if it's a lifeline, I feel a warm tear stream down my cheek.

My eyes open and watch the water rush into the pool. Doing this, I become angry. What kind of sick bastard did this to a seventeen year old girl? Panic fills the slowly dying embers of fury. How am I going to escape this? I'm going to die, I can't die. No, I promised that I would keep going in life for them. Tears freely flow down my cheeks as fury once again bubbles up and within me.

"Focus," I order myself sternly.

What is the best way to escape a binding?

Instantaneously, my mind races my mind races to the one lesson I had been taught on escaping, the lessons Rori had taught me. I focus in on the lesson, hearing Aurora's voice inside of my head.

'Find the weakest point, find something to break that binding, and start sawing or doing whatever you can to break that point. Avoid panic, you don't want to freak out in the middle of a life or death situation. Think of something that'll push you forward and something that will keep you going. Focus on that. Keep trying. Do not stop until you're free.'

Following Rori's instruction, I find my 'anchor; of a sorts and start searching for the weakest point in the rope. Finding the point, I begin to start sawing at the rope with the arrow.

**)0(**

**Later On**

**)0(**

The water has now rose up and above my head, my head's on fire, and I'm beginning to tire, but still I keep sawing at the ropes desperate and hoping that they'll soon give out. Clenching my eyes shut in conviction, I focus in on sawing the ropes. I don't pay mind to the urge and need to breathe, I can't afford to slip up. Feeling myself starting to give into the urge, to the need; I begin to frantically saw at the ropes.

"Isis."

Everything begins to blur and black dots spot my vision.

_Dante?_

"Stay awake."

"Keep going."

_Selina, Serenity?_

"Come on Isis, we know you can do it."

"Just keep on pushing through."

"We'll be helping."

"We'll always be here."

Slowly, but painfully I pry my eyes open, head in excruciating pain, and my lungs screaming for air. I keep on pushing through, allowing myself to keep on living. My eyes, now fully open and adjusted to the water, scan the pool to see if anyone's there, but no one is to be seen. I feel that they're here, just not with me. I know that they're helping me, allowing me to keep pushing on.

Thinking about them surges up a hot white rage within my entire being. I had lost them all because of six sadistic murders. Sawing at the rope rapidly, I feel myself slowly lose strength and tredly let the arrow slip away from my grip. The binding on the ropes breaking as I do so. Black spots fill my vision again and this time I can't fight it.

"We love you."

I open my mouth, soundlessly whispering back, "I love you."

Inwardly, I feel someone grab me, the breath I had took now taking it's toll. My world turns the color of my soul, of my being, of my life.

_Black._

* * *

Waking up, I gasp for air. My eyes are unopened and sore, my muscles aching and screaming in agony, my lungs gurning, and my head pounding.

Groaning in pain for the first time since my awakening, I open my eyes. Almost magically the lights temporarily blind me. For something that seems to be happening so much, I sure haven't gotten used to it.

Sitting up with a sluggish pace, I'm met with the sight of the man who gave me that arrow to break the ropes with and a woman with fiery red hair, almost the same exact shade as mine.

"Hello, you must be Isis Reed. We're the Argent's."

**)0(**

**A/N: Okay so I didn't update this as soon as I'd like to have posted it and the beginning and everything isn't really important, but my daughter got sick and I devoted my time to her. Also, _'Johnny Boy's'_ name is actually John and he'll be in and out of the story. I'm not going to beg, but if you like the story, but don't like something or how I'm doing it…I won't know unless you tell me! So review or PM me! I'm not demanding, seriously I'd never demand anyone to do something. So what did you like, not like, think was important, stupid, cool..? What are your thoughts? Also important note, This will have a Derek/Isis/Stiles love triangle and Siles will be the guy who gets the girl. Until next time!**

**~Aileen~Bell~Lena~**


	3. Chapter 2: First Hunt

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything fully except for chapters three and up. Anything you may or may not recognize, including the OC character, is not of my ownership.**

**Previously:** _"Hello, you must be Isis Reed. We're the Argents."_

* * *

**Chapter Two: First Hunt**

* * *

"Canines, made for the rendering of flesh. Senses heightened, for the hunting of prey. Speed and stamina, made for quick kills and easy escape. Werewolves have all of the above, but we have something they don't. We have weapons, in both physical and mental ways."

I stare at Victoria with an indifferent mask. It's time for my first hunt. I've been taught how to use a few weapons, but this doesn't calm my rapid thoughts filled with anxiety and nervousness.

"What do you mean?"

I look over to Allison Argent's voice, she was finally told about my involvement. For five days the Argent was kept in the dark, but now Allison knew. In fact, she was one of my personal trainers.

A smirk paints itself upon the flaming ginger headed Argent's face. The flecks of different shades of blue turn to a dark, solid shade. It seems to make her eyes more piercing, snakelike. Victoria Argent's icy eyes bore into her daughter's chocolate ones. The tone of her voice is smooth and silk like, but it's clear that there is a much more darker meaning behind it. A shiver runs down my spine.

"All _mutts_ have disadvantages. Wolfsbane. Pain. But most of all their bloodlust. _That_ is what allows their mind to be driven mad, that is what makes them give in to the urge. The urge to kill."

"So?" I ask, saving my fellow hunter.

Victoria's smirk is sinister and she doesn't bother to hide her glee as she speaks. "While they may be at their strongest point when in such a state, they're also at their weakest state. This state doesn't allow them to think thoroughly, almost always they'll give into the urge. Tactic, probability, or anything of the sort doesn't matter anymore."

I look at the woman expressing my thoughts._ So, why does this matter?_

"So, we use this to an advantage. Tactic _and_ strategy is the most important skill to have in this job, not to mention accuracy and quick thinking. Tell me. Do you, Isis Reed, have those qualities?"

I look at the woman in bewilderment, she's crossed the line. My answer is stated coldly, "Of course."

The Argent's smirk spreads into a smile, her answer covered in feigned cheer, "Good. I suppose you'll need those skills because you're leading the hunting party."

**)0(**

Scanning the pile of weapons I plan to take with me, I wonder if it's enough. I quickly dismiss my nerve filled worries, of course it is. Two chinese ring daggers soaked in wolfbane, a couple of wolfbane soaked throwing knives, a couple of guns, and my favorite wolfbane bullets. I'm completely ready to go.

Though the Argent's may have any and_ every_ weapon that could be imagined, I prefer knives and guns over anything else. I'm decent with everything else, besides spears, but I just don't really like anything else. Knives are my favorite toys, I'm flat out deadly with them. Allison's bow and arrow accuracy doesn't compare to mine when I'm using knives, I'm_ completely_ lethal.

"Mrs. Argent, I'm ready."

Victoria looks toward me, smirking, and goes to fetch my hunting party. Tonight, I'm in charge. Two lives are in my hands and I can't afford to mess this up, I'm nerve wracked. Five minutes later, the click of Victoria's heels signal their approach. Automatically, my face changes into one of business, my poker face. They enter my vision, I recognize Allison out of the two. The other hunter, well, I have yet to formally meet him.

The mystery hunter is younger, around Allison and I's age, who is rather handsome with locks of dark, solid brown, honey brown colored eyes, and a lean, but fairly muscled figure. Alright, let's face it, he's easy on the eyes.

"Allison, may I speak with you?"

Sending me a look, Allison quickly hurries after her mother. I bite my lip, I have no idea to even begin conversation with this guy. I mean, his life is in my hands tonight._ How do you talk to someone when you know that information?_ Apparently, I don't have to begin because he does.

"Well, Miss, it seems we have yet to actually introduce ourselves. I'm Asher, Asher Everett. I'm a family friend of the Argent's."

Smiling at the hunter himself, I introduce myself, "The names Isis, Isis Reed. Pleasure to meet ya."

Asher smiles slightly, preparing for what I'm sure is a rather witty response, but is interrupted by none other than Victoria Argent. Raising an eyebrow at the woman in question, I'm stunned into complete silence by her gaze. I'm ready to give her my absolute attention at this gaze, fore I haven't seen it on her before.

"In the Argent family, when one becomes a hunter, if they are a female, they are to lead their first hunt. Women are the leaders, men are just merely the soldiers. Since you don't really have- Since your fam- Because, my husband and I feel that you're part of the family, we'd like you to take on this tradition. Do you think you will be able to do so?"

Looking at the woman with what I'm sure is an expression of bewilderment and shock, I begin to open my mouth and accept the invitation, but no sound comes out. After about two full minutes I'm able to splutter something out, "S-sur- Ye- I'd be delighted to."

Victoria forms what seems to be a forced smile and walks away, but quickly returns with an outfit. I smile to myself, Victoria didn't smile often and I'm sure she doesn't really go out of her way to get things for someone else.

Though I'm touched by the woman's action, I look at her questioningly and speak my thoughts aloud, "What's that?"

The Argent replies with a familiar cheshire grin, "You wouldn't want the werewolves to see your face, Little Red, now would you?"

Warily, I accept the clothes, and look them over. I scrunch my brows when I notice that there's a red cloak along with leather clothing.

"These aren't all black…" I say slowly.

"I know."

"So, why aren't they?"  
Mischief fills her eyes. "We don't want everyone to know the next _leader_ in Argent business."

My eyes widen, I'm to take the position of Victoria when she's gone.

**A Week Later**

Looking into the mirror and into my reflection, I sigh when I see my rather unkempt appearance. My long deep red hair is a mess, my hazel eyes look lifeless, and my whole entire body is covered in sweat, blood, dirt, and injuries.

Victoria had insisted I lead the hunt, whether I had little experience or not. It had went well at first, but we had not anticipated an alpha and his pack to be protecting the omega; I had been preparing myself to make the kill when it happened.

**)0(**

**Flashback**

**)0(**

_"Come on, Isis, you have to do it. Kill him. Rid the world of this killer, Think of how many innocent lives it's took."_

Victoria's voice egged me on, it's what she said each and every time we trained. I guess this method worked, the persuasion worked when she wasn't even here. My mind flashes to Serenity, Selene, and Dante every time I think of her words. The motive is enough to push me forward, my mind dead set with the intent on killing the werewolf. My body allows my mind to take the lead, instinct pushed to the rearview mirror.

Swiftly and silently, I begin to creep up behind the young, teenage wolf. The young girl doesn't seem to notice as I quicken my pace with graceful, yet noiseless leaps and that as I do so my red cloak flies behind me. Grabbing one of my wolfbane soaked knives that I grabbed at last minute,I prepare to make the kill.

A figure pounces onto me, knocking me down. I don't take notice that the figure is actually a werewolf, until I feel it insert it's claws in my side. A deafening yelp of pain escapes my lips as I feel another set enter my leg. I'm helpless as I attempt to push the two raging, barbarous creatures off of me.

Grunts and small whimpers of pain escape my lips, I clench my mouth to avoid screaming out in misery as another set of claws punctures my thigh. A flash of silver brings me out of my pool of torment. The knife is, thankfully, still in reach; though I'd have to escape the werewolves swarming around me, each taking a turn in impairing me.

Scanning the three circling around me, I notice that only one is actually paying attention to me clearly thinking properly. That one werewolf is obviously older and more skilled. A howl sounds throughout the night, it's bone chilling and filled with order. An alpha's howl. Two of the werewolves leave, unfortunately, one of those two isn't the elder werewolf, the one with a clear head.

All of the sudden, the werewolf takes a bloodied, clawed hand and begins to gradually, in a sadistic way, slice my throat. Adrenaline takes over and I lunge for the dagger, my only lifeline. I successfully reach the knife, grip it tightly, and drive it into the monstrosities gut; only stopping when it's protruding out of his back and the light leaves his eyes.

The adrenaline begins to slowly inch it's way out of my system and as the werewolf begins to fall to the ground, I rip the knife out of it's lifeless corpse. Shock settles and replaces any trace of adrenaline, but is quickly removed when I hear a wail of pain.

Looking over to the source of the sound, I'm met with the sight of Allison. The fellow teen is at the knees of an enormous wolf with glowing red eyes, the eyes colored with blood. Wiping my bloodied hands onto my cloak, I try to rid myself of my first kills blood, and limp towards the sight. I pause when I hear footsteps trailing behind me. Despite my injuries, I swivel around. I'm met with the sight of Chris and Asher. _What is Chris doing here?_

Agitation seeps into my emotions. The two hunters are taking their sweet ol' time when Allison's _life_ is in _danger_. Forcefully, I grab a gun from whoever's at my left, grab a monkshood wolfbane bullet, and load it into the gun. Aiming the gun with precision and accuracy, I shoot it. the bullet, luckily, enters the alpha's head.

I sigh in relief as the alpha escapes with the remaining members of his pack. Allison, shakily, makes her way over to me. I can vaguely hear her thanking me along with the others, but I'm too focused on the bleeding coming from my side. My eyes flutter as I fight off falling asleep. Suddenly, the pain comes back full force. I can feel the blood leaking out of my wounds and I can feel my limbs getting heavier and heavier.

"Help m-"

I can vaguely feel myself fall to the ground. Vaguely feel a pair of arms catch me. Vaguely feel myself tumble into the blanket of darkness. I know what's happening, I'm dying.

"Stay with me."

I can hear the words, but I can't seem to focus on it. Apologizing, I allow the darkness to swallow me.

**)0(**

**End of Flashback**

**)0(**

Tracing the wounds on my upper body with my still bloodstained hands, I hiss in pain when I touch a rather sensitive spot in my side wound. Closing my eyes, I slowly peel off my clothing, and turn on the shower.

As the water heats up, I look over my body again. Blood, sweat, dirt, scars, and injuries are all over my body, effectively covering any bare skin I may have. Slipping into the shower, I let the water run over my body and bite down onto my lip. It helps me to keep myself from screaming out. Washing myself off, I begin to wander off to when I had awoke.

* * *

**Flashback**

* * *

"Who is she?" A familiar voice asks, sounding far away.

"I don't know, but if I was to take a guess I'd say she's the new girl from your school," Another voice says, sounding closer and soothing; it makes me relax, slightly.

"Isis?"

"Yes."

"It's not possible. She acts mean and stuff, but inside she is really sweet. I don't know why she doesn't want to show it though.."

"You should go, quick. They're here," the voice says now very alarmed.

My senses start to come back slowly and the all too familiar sensation comes to me; a pounding head and an aching body. I can hear a door open and close, followed by footsteps. As the person nears toward me, I tense.

"She looks like you."

"Yes," I hear Victoria Argent's voice agree.

"Does she know that you know?"

"Of course not Deaton," Victoria scoffs.

"She'll find out soon you know," Deaton states.

"Are you going to be the one to tell her?"

"No, but I know someone who will"

"Who?"

Just as the Deaton man is about to answer, I flutter my eyes open, and attempt to sit up. Wincing in pain, I allow myself to slowly return to my horizontal position on what feels like a metal table.

"Careful", says Deaton, "The wounds you've sustained nearly ended your life. The side injury being the worst of it. You should be careful and I'd suggest that you wouldn't go on any hunts for awhile and wouldn't do any extensive or really physical training."

I nod my head at the African American man and begin to wonder what the red headed Argent knows about me that I don't. The possibilities are endless. Who I'm related to, where I was born, where I'm from, my actual name, my nationality, etc. All of which relating back to my relations, my family.

**End of Flashback**

"Isis? What are you doing? Are you in the shower? Isis, you know you're not supposed to be in the shower!"

I sigh when Asher's voice reaches my ears. On the behalf of Victoria, Asher was ordered to spend the night with me. All of the Argent's and Asher himself had insisted that he had spent the night with me due to my injuries.

"Isis!"

Ignoring Asher, I begin to actually focus on cleaning myself off. Surprisingly, the blood has not been completely washed off my body. Suddenly, the emotions of remorse and shame drown me and I begin to anxiously scrub at my body. The blood is washed off, but my brain doesn't seem to register this. I continue to scrub and scrub at my body until it begins to turns a fleshy and flustered pink.

Slamming my head against the shower's walls with a resounding,_ bang!_, my chest begins to tighten up. The images of my blood stained hands, the dagger going through the werewolf's stomach, and other violent images of my past fills my thoughts.

In an instant, I feel like I can't breathe and like I'm drowning, but I'm not under a heavy blanket of water. Instead, I'm under a dark and deep blanket of memories, of emotions, and of life. I feel myself falling, but yet again, my mind doesn't to register it and allows me to fall. My breaths are now short and I begin to realize that I'm hyperventilating and on my way to a full blown panic attack.

"Isis?"

I attempt to respond, but I can't. My mouths open, but nothing comes out. The images now come back harder and faster. Tears run down my face and I'm screaming, but no one can hear me.

"Isis," a voice calls to me, faintly echoing.

The voice keeps calling my name and each and every time they do, I find myself fighting the images to go to them, to that voice.

Slowly, the panic begins to recede and my mind is now in control of my body. Picking myself up and off of the floor, I hiss, and then moan in pain when the medicine begins to fade.

"Isis?" the voice asks me warily.

"I-I'm fine," I manage to croak.

The voice pauses and I realize the voice wasn't just a voice, it was Asher. Slowly, I pick myself off of the shower's floor, and grab a towel I had previously set out for myself. Putting the towel around me, I look out the shower stall and grimace, there was still faint traces of blood, now pink; a result of having water added to it.

Limping to the restroom door, I yet again look into the mirror. The sight I'm met with astounds me. My hair is a sopping wet mess of ginger, my skin is a raw pink, my eyes are beet red, and there is blood trickling down my neck.

Gradually, I lift my hand and touch it to the back of my head. Feeling a warm liquid substance, my eyes widen, and I deliberately put my hand in front of my face. My thoughts are confirmed when I see the all, too, familiar substance, blood.

"A-Ash-Asher," I call.

I hear no reply. I call out his name again before I dizzily hit the floor, and manage to successfully slip into the dark covers of my unconscious mind, _again_.

* * *

**Dream**

* * *

I watch on at the scene in front of me, completely aghast. The red substance, known as blood, is sprayed and splattered everywhere, furniture is broken into small shards of the materials they're made out of, and mangled bodies lay in the room, each with their own pair of lifeless orbs.

Hesitantly, I walk towards the body nearest of me. It feels as if that specific one is...calling to me, beckoning me to see who they are, were. As I reach a stop in front of the body, I deliberate on whether I should do what I feel I should do, or what I think I should do. My gut feelings override any option I have to choose, so I kneel down beside the lifeless ginger haired corpse, and slowly begin to turn the body over.

I silently gasp at the corpse, my eye widening, and filling with tears. My hand subconsciously flies to cover my mouth in shock. I stare into the identical hazel orbs of pale icy green, star-burst blue, and small whiskey colored flecks. Scanning the features of the girl, the confirmation is made. Lengthy ginger hair, hazel eyes, and the same exact figure. This wasn't anybody else, this was me.

The steady rhythm of graceful, well practiced footsteps shake me out of my reverie. I turn around to meet a hooded figure, holding a dagger, and the only discernible facial feature is their blood-red colored lips curled up and into a dark, sinister sneer.

Looking at the figure cautiously, I momentarily forget the body of myself behind me, and instinctively take a step backwards. Instead of tripping on my corpse, I trip over air. Frantically, I search for the lifeless, bloodied corpse of myself. I don't find it and oddly enough I don't find the other corpses. Shock filled, I turn my head towards the hooded figure to find them not hidden anymore. The figure is a mirrored image of myself, with an evil smirk upon their face.

"Who are you?"

"Who am I?" asks the mirrored image, feigning the tone of my voice.

I don't reply to the voice, but it seems as if I didn't have to because she continues her rant.

"Well, isn't it obvious? I'm your worst nightmare," answers the duplicate of me, sadistically.

Looking at my 'twin' skeptically, I regain my confidence and roll my eyes. Scanning the room, I try to hide my fear. My eyes widen as I see the pile of dead bodies behind my duplicated self.

The faces are unmistakable. Dante, Selene, Serenity, Marie, and many others; ones that I loved. But two stick out, they're faceless, but I can still see some of their features. One was obviously a woman with long waves of deep ginger and a figure similar to mine. The other was obviously male with brown hair and a build, one that I could have received some features from. These two were obviously supposed to be my parents.

"Ah... I see little Adriana Katrine found her friends and Mommy and Daddy. Too bad they didn't want us. Too bad they don't want us. Too bad you killed all of them besides Mom and Dad. Too bad you don't even want you. 'Sister', do you want to know what I'm here for?"

"What do you want?" I whimper out.

"I don't want anything… But to kill you, to kill us."

My eyes widen in fear and I don't bother to hide it. I'm now stuck in a corner, with my back pressed as far into the wall as it can go, and my duplicate nearing towards me, dagger at ready. Suddenly, all of my loved ones body rise and their following my 'twin', chanting words that seem to be in French. My 'sister' edges closer and is now in front of me.

"Please," I beg my other self, tears swimming up inside my eyes.

My identical self just smiles wickedly and drives the dagger into my stomach, twisting it so that I can feel the pain, and ripping it out, only when I start falling. Blood gurgles from my mouth and my hands are now bloodied from attempting to hold the blood inside my wound.

"There you go Ana, I showed you the mercy we showed that werewolf. Absolutely none."

As I begin to slip into the land of unconsciousness, I see my duplicates face in my vision and hear her cackling laughter.

**End of Dream**

Inhaling a sharp gasp, I sit up. I'm bombarded with the sight of Deaton.

"I thought I told you to take it easy."

**AN: Okay, so it's finally up! I'm sorry it's been awhile since I've updated. This time of the year is always busy for me! Anyways, review, favorite, and follow! I know that Isis has passed out a lot, but that's going to change from here on out. I just didn't know how to change it. I've been editing Lila's chapters and changing them to mine and yes, I did change Ashton's name to Asher. I hope you enjoyed! Until next time!**

**~Aileen~Bell~Lena~**

**P.S.- This chapter is shorter than the rest, but this is a complete chapter and not split into two parts.**


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